Sons da Escrita 343

21 de Maio de 2011

Primeiro programa do ciclo Natércia Freire

Compasso a compasso, palavra a palavra, alinham-se, rigorosos, os sons da escrita.

Quando um homem interroga a água pura dos sentidos e ousa caminhar, serenamente, os esquecidos atalhos de todas as memórias, acontecem viagens — viagens entre o quase tudo e o quase nada.

Então, da raíz dos nervos da memória surge a planta de uma vida escutada no silêncio dos sons da escrita.

Sons da Escrita – à volta de uma ideia de José-António Moreira.


•••

Natércia Freire

E levantam-se as pessoas

E levantam-se as pessoas
Como quem se adormecesse.
Preparam-se para o sono
De uma vigília nas ruas
Nas casas e nos empregos.

E naufragam e sufocam
Nas avenidas do Tempo.
Conversam como quem fecha
Creches gaiolas enterros
— Crianças aves e mortos.

Nos sorrisos e nos risos
Na lucidez dos reflexos
Pensam os tristes dos homens
Ganhar os dias correndo.
Mas são retidos nas sombras.
São amarrados ao vento.
São sacudidos em potros
E forcas de entendimento.
Eles que são cabeleiras,
Nas chuvas de outros intentos
Nos rios e nas goteiras.

E levantam-se as pessoas
Como quem fosse viver.

Dá o Sol por sobre o Dia
Faz o dia apodrecer.

(Maduro quer dizer Morte
Com toda a sabedoria)

Deitam-se então as pessoas
Para a morte de outro dia.


Adam raised a cain (Bruce Springsteen)

In the summer that I was baptized,
My father held me to his side,
As they put me to the water,
He said how on that day I cried.
We were prisoners of love, a love in chains,
He was standin' in the door, I was standin' in the rain,
with the same hot blood burning in our veins,
Adam raised a Cain. 

All of the old faces,
Ask you why you're back,
They fit you with position,
And the keys to your daddy's Cadillac,
In the darkness of your room,
Your mother calls you by your true name,
You remember the faces, the places, the names,
You know it's never over, it's relentless as the rain,
Adam raised a Cain. 

In the Bible Cain slew Abel
And East of Eden he was cast,
You're born into this life paying,
for the sins of somebody else's past,
Daddy worked his whole life, for nothing but the pain,
Now he walks these empty rooms, looking for something to blame,
You inherit the sins, you inherit the flames,
Adam raised a Cain. 

Lost but not forgotten, from the dark heart of a dream,
Adam raised a Cain


Natércia Freire

Nos dias imaculados

Nos dias imaculados
Em que ninguém bate à porta,
Naqueles dias lavados
Em que sou anjo e sou morta,

Em que da luz dos desertos
Partem chamadas e gritos,
E à flor dos olhos abertos
Se adormecem infinitos...

Tudo a escorrer frio e ordem,
Horas certas e contadas,
Sem que os soluços me acordem
Mesmo a dar-me chicotadas.

E me rasguem pele e calma,
E me atirem para o fundo
— O fundo da minha alma,
O fundo do Fim do Mundo.

E de rojo, como dantes,
Me larguem pelos caminhos.
E me esmaguem os Gigantes
E me intimidem os ninhos.

E ao curso ingénuo dos rios
Me entreguem como uma folha,
Bem ressequida... e bem morta!
P'ra que ninguém me recolha.

Mudas viagens eu faça
Nas águas que ninguém olha.


Hands clean (Alanis Morissette)

If it weren't for your maturity none of this would have happened
If you weren't so wise beyond your years I would've been able to control myself
If it weren't for my attention you wouldn't have been successful and
If it weren't for me you would never have amounted to very much

Ooh this could be messy
But you don't seem to mind
Ooh don't go telling everybody
And overlook this supposed crime

We'll fast forward to a few years later
And no one knows except the both of us
And I have honored your request for silence
And you've washed your hands clean of this

You're essentially an employee and I like you having to depend on me
You're kind of my protege and one day you'll say you learned all you know from
me
I know you depend on me like a young thing would to a guardian
I know you sexualize me like a young thing would and I think I like it

Ooh this could get messy
But you don't seem to mind
Ooh don't go telling everybody
And overlook this supposed crime

We'll fast forward to a few years later
And no one knows except the both of us
I've more than honored your request for silence
And you've washed your hands clean of this

what part of our history's reinvented and under rug swept?
what part of your memory is selective and tends to forget?
what with this distance it seems so obvious?

Just make sure you don't tell on me especially to members of your family
We best keep this to ourselves and not tell any members of our inner posse
I wish I could tell the world cuz you're such a pretty thing when you're done
up properly
I might want to marry you one day if you watch that weight and keep your firm
body

Ooh this could be messy and
Ooh I don't seem to mind
Ooh don't go telling everybody
And overlook this supposed crime


Natércia Freire

Canção do verdadeiro abandono

Podem todos rir de mim,
podem correr-me à pedrada,
podem espreitar-me à janela
e ter a porta fechada.

Com palavras de ilusão
não me convence ninguém.
Tudo o que guardo na mão
não tem vislumbres de além.

Não sou irmã das estrelas,
nem das pombas, nem dos astros.
Tenho uma dor consciente
de bicho que sofre as pedras
e se desloca de rastros.


Laughing (David Crosby)

I thought I met a man who said he knew a man
Who knew what was going on
I was mistaken, only another stranger that I knew

And I thought that I'd found the light
To guide me through my nights and all its darkness
I was mistaken, it was only reflections of a shadow that I saw

And I thought I'd seen someone who seemed at last
To know the truth
I was mistaken, only a child laughing in the sun

Ahhhhhhhhhhhh in the sun


Por dentro, é a penumbra do casulo,
cerrado à luz na expectativa informe.
Se vou nascer — a vida não regulo;
se vou morrer — a morte ainda não dorme.


Música:

Genérico
Davy Spillane (abertura e fecho), Beatles (Fecho)

Fundos
Djivan Gasparyan

Ligações
Bruce Springsteen, Alanis Morrissette, David Crosby

Textos:
Natércia Freire

Edição e voz:
José-António Moreira


•••|•••|•••


And in the end

the love you'll take

is equal to the love you make

© José-António Moreira 2012